


Falling Skies

by tyomawrites



Series: Demon and an Ex-Hunter [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 04:36:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4773779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyomawrites/pseuds/tyomawrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little ficlet about Demon Dean’s demonized soul pulling it’s soulmate out of Heaven and his soulmate is now the new boyking of hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Skies

Kevin had been wandering through his Heaven when he felt the light tugging sensation, he ignored it at first, thinking it was something else, but as soon as he took another step forward the ground opened up beneath his feet and he felt a blinding pain as he was dragged out of Heaven, he could see the sky as he was falling, Heaven slowly becoming further away, out of reach, then he felt an impact against his back, and he blacked out.

 

* * *

 

He woke up on a park bench in Sioux Falls, dressed in scruffy jeans and a red hoodie, his hair cut short and styled up, going by the reflection that he saw in a puddle, it looked like he was a homeless college student ... the description was apt enough ... he was homeless.

The first thing he did was check his pockets and he found a roll off bills in his hoodie pocket and a pack of cigarettes in his jeans pocket along with two slips of papers with phone numbers scrawled onto them, meticulously labeled. ‘Sam’ and ‘Dean’ Winchester.

 

* * *

 

It was four days out of Heaven and Kevin had been propositioned by four men, thinking he was a prostitute instead of the homeless college boy he actually was. He had bought a burner phone with some of the money he had, an old cheap one that would run for two weeks and had called Sam and Dean wanting to ask if either one had a clue of what happened... Both calls went to voicemail. He didn’t like the feeling he got when he hung up.

He stood from the park bench he first woke up on and walked towards the diner he was buying his meals from. A waitress there that was usually working when he came in gave him extra in his meals. When he walked in, he didn’t see her, so he walked towards the booths and slid into one, glancing at the specials incase there was something cheaper than his normal meal. Someone slid in next to him and he froze, it was a girl, blonde hair and brown eyes.

“Hi there, you don’t really look like you belong here.” She said to him, leaning against his arm.

He frowned before looking at her. “Uh, hi, I don’t I’m just waiting for my brothers to pick me up.” He lied, turning away from her.

“Ooh, brothers, huh? Must be fun living with them?” She prodded at the subject, as if she was daring him to lie even more.

He nodded, not wanting to speak anymore and she grabbed his wrist as it traced a pentagram on the table. He tensed and she gave him an innocent smile before leaning in and whispering in his ear. “You’re a hard prophet to find Kevin Tran.”

He turned his head to stare at her in shock. “Christo.” He whispered under his breath and she hissed, eyes flashing black before she snapped her fingers and they were out of the diner and in a warehouse. She was stronger than him and she tied him to a chair in the centre of the large warehouse, not saying a word.

A familiar man in a suit walked closer. “Ah, Kevin Tran, nice to see you.” He said with a smile. “I hope you remember me.”

Kevin shrunk back at the sight of the man that hunted him.

“If you don’t, here’s a reminder...” He leaned in close, grabbing his chin and tilting him up to look into red eyes. “Name’s Crowley. King Of Hell.” Kevin wished he had the courage to scream.

 

* * *

The torture started first. Knives, digging into his skin, flaying him slowly and then being fed his flesh, strip by strip. The taste of skin, muscle and a sliver of fat making him choke on his own bile as it was forced down his throat.

It was the second thing that brought him down and stripped away his walls. He’d felt them, the lingering touches during the torture sessions. They were soft at first and just hovering over his skin, over his thighs and the base of his ass, over his crotch and up his chest and a soft thumb across his lips. They got more insistent and grounding, they slid down his chest, down to the waistband of his jeans, fingers trailing the traitorous bulge tenting the fabric. They slipped into his boxers, stroking his length with a gentleness that made him squirm on the table they strapped him too. The same hands slid around his waist to the small on his back and down to his ass, slipping between the cheeks and rubbing teasingly against his hole, fingers suddenly warm and slick as they pushed their way into him to the first knuckle. They pulled him closer, spreading him open, turning him onto his stomach and a weight settled on the back of his legs, hot shaft pressing at his hole, pushing into it, stretching him and spreading him onto it. They impaled him onto it, feeling him squirm and writhe, whines forcing out of his throat along with moans and whimpers as they fucked him thoroughly.

The next time they had forced him onto his knees, hands soft over his shoulders and through his hair, holding him close and smiling down at him with their eyes sparkling. They’d unbuttoned their jeans, thumb pushing into his mouth, smiling at the compliancy that came with the gesture and they spread his mouth open, pushing inside, hands threading through the hair on his head, pushing his head down until he was gagging on the cock in his throat until he was close to passing out before taking his head off, kind smiles looking down at spit shined, plump lips and a face covered in come.

Next came the heat. It was so hot... his throat was parched and Kevin found himself strapped to a table, sweating everything out, two demons circling him while another came in carrying a glass filled with a thick red liquid and he set it down on the tray of ice cubes and other cooling items next to the table.

“Are you thirsty?” One asked him as he leaned over him. He shook his head, smelling the metallic tang of the thick red liquid in the glass. The demon gripped his chin, tilting his head up and squeezing his fingers into his cheeks, forcing his mouth open and tilting it back, lifting the glass to his lips and tipping the metallic, thick liquid down his throat.

They left him alone after the glass was finished, smiling to themselves, whispering about a new era. Crowley had left after the first day, talking about something more important to attend to, so he was left with them…they kept feeding him that liquid, it made him tingly and he felt buzzing under his skin. The more they gave him, the more tingly it felt and the less he burnt himself on it. It gave him this high that made him feel alive.

They came back in a few hours, with more glasses of the same liquid and he accepted them eagerly, taking those glasses down with ease and begging, needing more, his body twisting and making room for the power growing in his body.

 

* * *

 

They took him out of the room they trapped him in, as a ‘reward’ for compliance and good behaviour as well as something they dubbed ‘an introduction to the lifestyle’ and they gave him a tour of Hell. When he walked through those halls, he could hear screams and voices echo through the walls, demons walked past him and instead of scoffing or stopping to push him to his knees, they’d watched him with wariness, eyes pointed to the floor when he’d turn to them, staring them down. They cowered and the demons that were with him smiled proudly.

Their names were Damien and Dante and they were brothers. They had sold their souls to save their parents, both who were dying of cancer and they found each other again in Hell. They stood by Kevin’s side as he willingly drank the blood in the glasses they brought daily, a hand each on his back possessively. They whispered encouragement, lips brushing over the sensitive shell of his ears with smiles on their face, nipping at his skin teasingly.

“Our king.” They whispered, hands wandering down a familiar path, undressing hims as they steered him back to the table he was strapped on all those days ago, pushing him onto his back as they worshiped him, hands bringing him life.

He melted into their touches and gave in, welcoming them and the familiar buzzing as Damien lifted his wrist to his mouth, red liquid smeared across his skin. Demon blood. That was the thing they’d been giving him and he craved it, needed it liked the drug it was and he latched onto his wrist, sucking on the liquid, taking it in with a need as Dante and Damien rutted against him, lips latching onto his skin and sucking marks onto it.

They let him sit up as soon as they’d come after him, rubbing their release into his skin, teeth biting his neck with a moan and he pulled them both close. They wrapped their arms around him affectionately and they held him close. Kevin smiled as Dante buried his face into his chest, hair tickling his face and the two relaxed with him in the room.

“You are our King.” Damien murmured into his shoulder. “Our Boyking.”

Boyking … He liked the sound of that.

 

 


End file.
